Like a discarded folly it stands abandoned
a building for the people.
Yet now it's been neglected by the council
there in that prominent position.
Time and weather has not been a friend
as many wish for it's end!

The council did not want the listed building
letting it become a wreck.
Repairing and upgrading others around
urgent repairs had to be done.
The owners who bought it for a pound
just couldn't be found!

Boarded up and classed as still unsafe
even with a grade two listing.
Yet it totters on the edge of its destruction
oppressive when you stare.
The building for years has not been used
watching it being abused!

Discarded this was the communities centre
that should be preserved.
Give that splendour back to this town's core
a focal point create a roar!

The Foureyed Poet.

Arrived at the station late on a winter's night
from the platform saw the train.
As it disappeared into the railway tunnel
on the down line to the city.
No sound except for a rising bitter wind
to be on it my hopes were pinned.

Not prone to be scared but uncomfortable
every noise put me on alert!
It was an unmanned station and I was alone
with no cell phone signal.
Unable to tell a soul that I'd missed the train
as it started to pour with rain.

The external lamps began to swing with force
creating many darting shadows!
I could hear footsteps on the empty platform
then realised I was pacing.
As that dread of the unknown within grew
stuck until the next train was due!

At this point I was sure somebody was nearby
an outline of a figure was clear!
But it was nothing just a swinging door
to the waiting room I went in.
Inside closing it shut light here was poor
paper blown in on the floor.

I started talking aloud then I saw in the corner
a small child and I guessed her mother!
Who I hadn't noticed when I entered the room
taken by surprise I said ' Hello'.
The lady smiled and spoke quietly back
yet emotion her voice did lack!

They seemed nice and we chatted for a while
their clothes seemed an odd style!
Eventually fell sleep when I woke they'd gone
it was daylight outside.
The clock on the wall read six and was very cold
onto the platform I strolled.

I consciously glanced for the two I'd met in the night
but they were not in sight!
At that moment my thoughts were on leaving
as the early train came in.
Nobody else got on board that I could relay
only later did I replay!


Shuddering at the implication they weren't real
ghosts the image didn't appeal!
Looking as solid as me having a conversation
thinking this once I'd left.
Though now I shall never really find out
always having a nagging doubt!

What did I experience that cold winter's night?

The Foureyed Poet.

Passing a property I felt compelled to the gate
something had drawn me to stop!
An irresistible urge to go inside the property
having to bang on the red door.
Waiting unable to move from the spot
on that nice day I was cold not hot!

I tried to move how I wanted to run
but my body wouldn't move!
The screams were trapped in my throat
why was I frozen here?
Shuffling noises from within approached
as my space was encroached!

I could now hardly breath as the door opened
a wrinkled old woman stared.
With deep black sunken eyes that glared
the pierced your soul!
As my body was drawn into the room
nearby was a witches broom!

Then it turned into a grim putrid hovel
as other witches appeared!
I lost consciousness at that very moment
waking up on a lino floor.
A middle aged lady staring down at me
as I looked up embarrassingly!

Helping me to a comfortable armchair
she told me I was not the first.
Who had been drawn to her front door
on this spot once it was said.
An evil witches coven had been found
but was burnt to the ground!

Seven witches were caught and put on trial
by the frightened villagers!
And here where the place now stands
they were burnt at the stake!
Saying they cursed the villagers evermore
descendants would knock the door!

As they alone would detect the witches call
realising I was caught here.
My mum gave me a locket I had to wear
said never take it off.
Unless I was compelled into a dwelling
and this story a lady telling!

Only then should I open the hinged locket
that contained the ashes!
Of the seven that died throw them it's face
then run and not look back!
I did as I was told running until I was tired
so long as now I'm retired!

It was a big story in that town I use to live
a mystery fire had caused.
The destruction of the historical cottage
it was never solved.
But I gather there was no more trouble
a locket was found in the rubble!

The Foureyed Poet.

How did I end up in this awful cell
caged in like an animal!
Diagnosed with a mental disorder
sectioned and put in here.
I had heard those voices in my head
they were from the dead!

Always knowing that I could be a medium
having messages relayed!
But doctors had always said I was ill
nobody listened to me.
This was a gift since I was a child
not suddenly becoming wild!

Dismissed this notion ignoring my plea's
psychiatrist's made the decision.
Drugged and humiliated in a hospital
here I lay on the bed!
How to show the diagnosis was false
get out of this therapy course!

Surely friends and comrades may put it right
prove it was a bad panic attack!
How could they mistake my gift for an illness
it took days to understand.
That what I had been telling them was true
the spirits guided me through!

In this world there is much we don't understand
have an open mind and outstretched hand!

The Foureyed Poet.

Swindon used to be a working railway town
the works then dominated our lives.
Covering so much land under the bridges
most of the jobs were within.
In those days the ****** was our alarm clock
bringing them to work in a flock.

Three ****** blasts echoed over the wide area
we all relied on that sound.
Part of our lives to us a unique local feature
on the third ****** you were late.
In the works most had a relation past on present
at home time avoiding the bikes an event.

The ****** was silenced when it was closed down
sites and sounds changed there after.
New Swindon was built specifically for the railway
greatly missed since it went away.


The Foureyed Poet.

A lone car had to stop at the rail crossing
as the heavy gates close.
Bells rang and lights flashed on and off
she sat waiting to get home.
In the distance down the single track
it passed a rail side shack.

Anxiously thinking why such a long wait
then Annie felt the vibration.
her daughter Ella cried in her car seat
as a dark shape approached!
Speeding by them like an old express train
screaming was hard to refrain.

Ella was silent they were both mesmerised
the barriers stayed down.
Then the scheduled train trundled through
what had they just seen?
barriers now rose how glad to move on
in her mind the image strong!

Annie was certain what they had seen was a ghost train
determined to find out more and come again.

The Foureyed Poet.

That early morning ****** air tasted pure
birds began to rise singing.
The veil of the night lifted for a new dawn
a cockerel then crowed.
Fields still green trees standing unscathed
land yet unpaved!

Untouched by developers or planners curse
a tranquil reminder.
How the countryside was before the building
took natures beauty away
I remember that unblemished infinity gaze
through the natural haze!

With a clear surveillance of the distant landscape
creatures in their habitats.
Still undisturbed of man's advances in evidence
without his blundering hand.
When machines came to carve up hills and dales
lost forever lands and trails!

Lose respect of the environment sacrifice the future!

The Foureyed Poet.